


Mixed Signals

by karasunovolleygays



Series: Valentine's Kisses 2020 [10]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, High School, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:55:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22236706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunovolleygays/pseuds/karasunovolleygays
Summary: Sakuno finds out Ryoma has a girlfriend, but she only knows half the story.
Relationships: Echizen Ryouma/Ryuuzaki Sakuno
Series: Valentine's Kisses 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589239
Comments: 6
Kudos: 76





	Mixed Signals

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for my 2020 Valentine's kisses #10: A hello/good-bye kiss that is given without thinking - where neither person thinks twice about it.

Sakuno hums a tuneless melody as she returns her library books to the cart. English has been a complete pain to learn, but the more she reads, the more the language naturalizes itself to her eyes. Speech is something different, but small steps in the right direction are steps nonetheless.

Why is she cramming an entirely different language into her head? As with most of the difficult things in her life, it’s mostly because of Ryoma.

With Ryoma (her sort of kind of, if you squint boyfriend) heading off in a few weeks to start the pro circuit full time, most of the news outlets covering his matches will be in English. He’ll get some coverage by Japanese sports networks, but not enough for Sakuno to know he’s doing well.

Is he mucking his way through interviews, rather than giving the nice pre-packaged answers his agent tells him to give? Are sportswriters trying to do profile pieces on him, and do they get anything right? Do news anchors know from the way Ryoma squares his shoulders what kind of mood he’s in?

A petty little gremlin inside her hopes they don’t. It’s been almost six years since she had met Ryoma, and every day has been a challenge trying to figure out where she fits into his life.

Does he like her? She’s pretty sure he does, or he wouldn’t pretend to have nothing better to do than spend time with her. Does he love her like she loves him? She still has no idea. Will he go off on tour and avail himself of the beautiful women who will no doubt throw themselves at him everywhere he goes?

That thought makes her rush back to her table to hastily gather her things and all but run out of the library.

Her uniform skirt flutters around her knees as she meanders through the courtyard of Seishun High School. The sounds of dozens of boys running laps beckons her in the distance, and she heads for the tennis courts.

Horio is chattering some sort of running chant, which the whole team follows along with other than the third years. She spots Ryoma lingering in the middle of the pack. He has merely tolerated running for the most part, a necessary evil to build the stamina he needs to be successful. 

The team winds down from their hellish run and head back for the court. Sakuno occupies the bench behind the fence, and a few of the players wave to her as they pass by, her presence more or less a fixture for as long as most of them can remember.

Ryoma’s eyes shift in her direction, and an almost-smile twitches on the corner of his mouth. It’s stupid and she doesn’t know why it still gets to her after years of evidence that Ryoma is not remotely charming, yet the sight makes her belly flutter nonetheless.

He breaks away from the group and sits next to her. Without so much as a greeting, Ryoma reaches over and thumbs the tip of her nose, then tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “You had dust on your nose.”

Sakuno’s cheeks flame. “Th-thank you, Ryoma-kun.”

“Ranking matches are today.” He crosses his arms and leans back on the bench. “Third years aren’t in them, though.”

“I suppose Horio-kun has declared himself the unofficial winner.” Sakuno stifles a giggle and eyes their longtime batchmate, who appears to be doing just that. “He hasn’t beaten you yet. Why would he think that would change now?”

Ryoma lowers his cap on his brow and smirks. “Mada mada dane.”

They stop talking and observe the match-ups, and Ryoma makes no move to join his teammates to observe. He looks relaxed and oblivious, but Sakuno knows he is watching with laser-like focus. As it has since they met, tennis has and still does envelop him fully in its presence.

The matches go about how she expects them to. A few of the more promising first years make a good run for a spot on the next year’s roster, some of the better second years start to emerge as the next batch of elite players on the team.

Finally, the coach corrals all the players in, and with a sigh, Ryoma sits up straight. “Gotta go.” He leans over and brushes a kiss to her temple. “See ya, Ryuuzaki.”

“Later, Ryoma-kun.” She gives him an awkward little wave and leans in to follow along with the results. 

Soon, the players file out of the courts and head for the showers. Sakuno doesn’t pay too much attention to what they say, as most of their comments end up being crude observations about some of the girls at school, but one phrase does sink in of its own accord.

“— so I suppose that means she’s off the menu,” says one of the third years.

Another chimes in. “Dude, she’s been off the menu since day one. She’s Echizen’s girlfriend. Only a lunatic would poke that bear.”

 _Echizen’s girlfriend._ Something twists in Sakuno’s gut at those words. After all these years of their awkward waltz around each other, Ryoma has finally given up on her and gone after someone else. 

She bites her lip when it starts to wobble, and she rushes away from the courts before she makes a scene that will make her into even more of a joke.

Sakuno’s feet carry her of their own accord, bringing her to the ratty public tennis court near the school. Most of its usual inhabitants are already on the high school or middle school teams, so it’s deserted at the moment. 

A small nook beneath the underpass beckons, a place where she has sought refuge in the past, and she climbs up the concrete slope to curl into a ball there. Once she sits, she hugs her knees to her chest and cries.

Sakuno doesn’t hear someone join her until a familiar roughened hand nudges her chin up. Ryoma watches her with a raised brow. “What’s bugging you?”

“Nothing,” she lies, tucking her face against her knees once again. “Nothing at all.”

Ryoma chortles and hauls her into his lap, drawing a surprised squeak from Sakuno. “Yeah, not buying it. Is it some kind of girl thing?”

“Yeah,” Sakuno answers too quickly to fool either one of them. 

“Ah, so it is a girl thing but not _that_ girl thing.” He sighs and wraps his arms around her waist. “Lemme know when you’re good. I wanna go to that noodle place again.”

The dam breaks, and Sakuno’s distress is drowned by irritation. “Oh, so now it’s just time to calm down the hysterical girl so you can just waltz off to have dinner with your _girlfriend,_ ” she snaps.

Sakuno wrenches herself from his grasp and starts clambering down the slope toward the alley below. The sound of grumbling and shuffling feet follow her, so she speeds up her exit, only for the toe of her shoe to get stuck in a crack in the concrete and send her listing forward.

Fear hardly has time to take hold before Ryoma snatches her backward and they land in a pile of limbs. Ryoma lays sprawled out underneath her, his entire face pinched into a grimace. “Ow.”

“Ryoma!” Sakuno scrambles off of him, looking him over a dozen times for any outward sign of injury. Other than his pained expression, she doesn’t find any, but an avalanche of biology lessons she’s been cramming for the past month or so dumps an infinite number of internal injuries a fall like that could cause.

With a groan, Ryoma waves her off and sits up. “Are you ready to tell me what the hell is wrong with you now, or am I supposed to guess until I break something?”

“Don’t joke about things like that!” Sakuno buries her face in her hands. “This is all my fault. I just assumed that — just forget it. I”m sorry I bothered you.”

Her escape is cut short by a firm grip on her wrist sending her right back down onto her bottom. “Oh, no, you’re not getting away that easily. Not until you start making some sense.”

Out of energy and will to fight back, Sakuno wilts next to him. “I just thought that we’d, you know . . . get there.” Ryoma’s lips purse in thought, and she whines in the back of her throat. “I’m not saying this right at all.”

“Then say it some other way.” His expression is earnest and engages, the way it is when he’s watching a great tennis match or eyeballing a great meal, but the only one he’s looking at is her.

She scrapes together her endeavors from the past few months and cobbles something together finally, even if it is in English. “If you have girlfriend, you should tell me.”

“What are you even talking about?” Ryoma replies, albeit not in English. “I thought you knew.”

“Well I do now.” Sakuno closes her eyes and lies down next to Ryoma, too tired to the core to force her body into motion anymore. “I heard some of the team talking about her. You don’t have to report to me about anything at all, but I just thought, well . . . I deserve to know you’re interested in somebody else.”

Ryoma is silent for a tense handful of seconds before the rumbling sound of laughter echoes off the concrete. The sound makes Sakuno shrink even further into herself, and her belly protests the discomfort.

Sakuno yelps when Ryoma straddles her waist, amusement still teasing at the corners of his lips. “You know, Ryuuzaki, you’re kind of cute when you’re being stupid.”

His hand winds around the back of his neck and pulls her close for a kiss. Sakuno’s eyes fly open in surprise until she gives herself over to the feeling of pure want. 

She has never denied her feelings for Ryoma and never would, but as his mouth trails kisses up the line of her jaw, she has never been more certain of anything else in her life. The two of them together, it feels right.

His lips hover over her ear, and he whispers, “The only girlfriend I have is you. Don’t forget that.”

“Ryoma,” she breathes, and their gazes lock. “It does sound really stupid now that I think about it.”

“Mmm, good,” he murmurs. His hands run up the length of her arms until they pin her wrists over her head. “Just to be clear, I have never had a girlfriend who isn’t you. I’m pretty sure you’ve never had any other boyfriend but me. Are we on the same page now?”

Sakuno bites back a moan at the flare of vehemence dancing in Ryoma’s eyes. “Yes.”

He kisses her again, this time with the rough sort of passion he has for anything he finds worth his time, and for the moment, all of it is for her.

Their lip lock is loudly interrupted by Ryoma’s stomach demanding sustenance. Ryoma snorts. “So, uh, about those noodles . . .”

“Let’s go.” Sakuno lets him help her to her feet, and as Ryoma corrects her mediocre English grammar, they wander toward the new noodle shop on the block together hand in hand.


End file.
